


Lessons Learned

by phantisma



Series: Keeper Verse [38]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: F/M, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-02-13
Updated: 2008-02-16
Packaged: 2017-12-08 17:33:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 19,930
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/764102
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/phantisma/pseuds/phantisma
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>As the second semester of freshman year begins, Dana comes face to face with situations that will alter her life.  There's a new professor who isn't what she expects, a new roommate, Scott on campus, her father's ongoing nightmares and a predator that even Dana doesn't see coming.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

“Is that everything?” Dana asked, as her father dropped a box on the bed.

“Think so. Scott’s bringing up his bed stuff.”

Dana nodded and went back to organizing the little refrigerator. She’d picked up the essentials for any dorm room on her way over, making sure she bought Scott’s favorite soda and some of the honey-smoked turkey that she thought was disgusting, but he ate by the pound.

Not that she was trying to influence him or anything. She just wanted this semester to be better than the last. Not that she knew what had actually happened…still. Months after the fact.

 _Stop obsessing._ Sam’s voice pushed past the endless rambling in her brain and she glanced up. Sam was helping Scott into the room with his oversized and worn out comforter. _And button up, you’re leaking out all over the place._

She sighed and pulled herself back in. She wasn’t trying to be obsessive. But Scott…he wouldn’t tell her what had happened at Stanford, and neither would Sam…and most infuriatingly, neither would her father. And, Scott still wanted to “see other people” even though he hadn’t dated a single girl since he got back, making Dana feel deeply guilty if she even checked out a guy.

 _Dana_. Now, Sam was exasperated.

She rolled her eyes. “I got a class. I should go.”

“Thanks for the help.” Scott called, all amiable and friend-like. She sighed again. She was tired of having a Scott-shaped friend. She wanted her Scott-shaped boyfriend back.

But it beat his cold, silent treatment when he first came back. She kissed her father’s cheek, then Sam’s and headed out of the dorm, to her own room and her books. She sighed repeatedly.

Sam wanted her to be patient. To be supportive and friendly. To be understanding. She wondered if he remembered who he was talking to. Dana could be supportive and friendly and even understanding…to a degree. But patient was not a Winchester virtue. Patience was a waste of time, even her Papa agreed with that.

Still, she wasn’t going to win him back by being overbearing. That she knew. So, she was friendly. They talked, but there was no flirting. No touching. And to top it off, she’d sworn off the party-girl thing because it was getting too hard to keep track of which guy was which, and she was always deadly afraid she’d be making out with some guy and Scott would see.

Because she was pretty sure…really, pretty sure, that Scott was the guy she wanted to have forever…the guy who would be her Sam. It ached inside her when she had to sit across from Scott at the dinner table while her father and Sam snuggled together, all quiet flirtation and unspoken language.

It was only worse since the whole wedding thing.

But, now that school was starting it would be easier. They had two classes together, which meant they could study and share notes, and if that lead to…more…well, she was more than ready.

Her new roommate was a nice girl, no slutty little tart like the last one. Dana waved as she looked up from her desk. “Settled in?”

“I think so.”

“Good. I’m off to statistics class. Maybe we can do coffee later, get to know each other?”

She smiled, pushing her glasses up. “I’d like that.”

Big improvement. Dana pulled the door shut and checked her watch. They had a new professor for the Intro to Statistics class, and the buzz from the math geeks was that he was a hottie.

She hadn’t read the material, but that generally wasn’t a problem. She’d just skim it off someone as she needed it. She headed for the math building, her mind firmly on Scott, rather than statistics.

Most of the students taking seats around her were sophomores, but she knew some of them. She smiled at Andrea Gallows, but Andrea was still miffed over a thing with Michael Barinowski and she brushed past Dana, sniffing disdainfully.

Dana rolled her eyes and scanned the rest of the class. She spotted the teacher as he came in and sat up straight. The math geeks were right. Total hottie.

He wasn’t as tall as she was, but he had dark curly hair and dark eyes.

“All right class, let’s get started. This is Intro to Statistics and I am Professor George Jacobs. This is my first semester here. We will be covering the basics of statistics and statistical analysis in this class, which will form the building block for many of your classes to come. I am tough, but fair.”

Dana let his words wash over her, but zoned out a little. She’d get his story later, if she needed to. She shifted her butt and her attention when he shifted out of introduction into actual material, and started asking questions. Her mind reached out around her, grabbing on to bits of information and processing it…until she reached for his.

What she found wasn’t free-floating knowledge, but walls. She blinked and realized he was looking at her.

_And you are?_

She swallowed and looked around her. She snapped her security walls firmly into place. _Dana Winchester._ She ran a quick check on her defenses, locked them down.

He nodded and continued talking, his eyes wandering over the rest of the class. _See me after class. And don’t try that again._

Dana took a deep breath and tried to refocus. He’d caught her off guard. She hadn’t even sensed him. That was unlike her. Missouri had said she’d gotten lazy. Dana had sloughed it off as trying to be more casual.

She sat up straight and tried to follow the lecture, feeling each and every time his eyes touched her. A flush of embarrassment crept up her neck, and onto her cheeks. She had never been so grateful for a class to end in her life, and even though she wanted to slink away in the crowd of her classmates, she inhaled and forced the panic down and waited. When the room was clear, she stood up and gathered her things, descending to stand beside his desk.

He looked up, then at the door, which swung closed. Dana stared. She hadn’t felt a thing. Nothing.

“Ms. Winchester, I assume we won’t have a repeat of that in my class room?”

She opened her mouth, but couldn’t find the words to say. “I…Professor…I can explain…”

He smiled, and damn if that didn’t just make him cuter. “No need, Ms. Winchester. I understand completely. I was once your age myself, after all. As talented as you are, it must be terribly tempting.”

“You…I didn’t even feel you…when you came in the room, I mean.” Dana finally said, hugging her books to her.

“No, because unlike some, I don’t wear my gifts where anyone can see them. It brings trouble.” He raised an eyebrow. “Something I’m sure you’re familiar with.” He closed his book and stood. “Now then, keep your gifts in check, apply yourself, and you should do well in my class.”

He left her standing there, still stunned, still hugging her books to her. She stared at him, watched him walk away. She’d never met another adept who could so completely hide from her. Not like that.

It was a little frightening. And exciting.

She headed for her dorm, and nearly half way there it dawned on her that she was going to have to actually study. Especially if this first class was a good indication of the pace he planned to keep. And, she was already playing catch up. She groaned. So far the new year was turning rapidly to crap.

 

Sam dropped Dean at the garage and headed home. The house was empty, but for the dogs. Quiet. Not that it had been overly loud with Scott there. Scott stayed pretty much to himself, but with Scott there, Sam had felt constrained by the kid’s discomfort with anything psychic or supernatural. He’d wanted to force Dean to deal with whatever was causing the nightmares. Yet, he knew it would be a struggle, both mentally and emotionally, and Scott had been through so much, Sam figured he could do with a taste of something normal.

Everyone was relieved though, three days before Christmas, when the school had called to say that they had a room for him. Sam got the distinct impression that Dana had something to do with it, judging by her smug attitude when the call came in, but he was too grateful to call her on it.

He sighed as he opened the door and was greeted by the ever-growing and rambunctious puppy. Dean’s dog was damn high maintenance. He yipped and danced until Sam pointed to the back door and then he went running, sending the hallway carpet flying at Sam.

Sam got the door open and Remmy raced out into the yard. He shook his head, watching the dog stop to pee, only to be distracted by a butterfly and take off chasing it. No wonder the damn dog always smelled like pee.

Sam sank into one of the chairs and considered Dana. Truth was, he’d let a lot of stuff slide. She’d seemed to get very serious right after Bellius. Then two weeks later, when Scott came home, she seemed to lose focus. Her defenses were all over the place, her thoughts leaking like a sieve, and she seemed monumentally distracted. Then there was her growing obsession with regaining Scott’s affection.

A lot of that, he knew, was his fault. He had spoiled her in an epic manner. Never really made her work for a thing. Disciplined only the worst trangressions Perhaps, worst of all, looked the other way when her ethical choices weren’t squeaky clean. After all, it wasn’t like he had the best track record in that regard.

But now…He sighed again. Aristotle padded out the open back door and sat beside him, her head on his knee. Maybe it was time to go back to formalized training. They could set aside a few nights a month to work on her discipline. Make her stronger. Work with her on all the new things he’d learned from Ally and Inda.

“And, I just have to figure out what to do about Dean, Ari.” Sam said, scratching her head. At the mention of Dean’s name, Remmy looked up from his ball, his eyes looking around the yard for his master. Sam shook his head. The dog had a one track ‘Dean’ mind.

He had a few hours before Dean came home. He figured he’d start with a nice dinner. Dean was always more reasonable with food in his stomach.

 

Dean stifled another yawn, then set aside the tool in his hand, standing upright and stretching. It had been such a long time since he’d spent anything close to a whole day at the garage. Even longer since the last time he actually slept for more than a few hours without the help of sleeping pills. He’d taken to waiting until Sam was asleep, then slipping down to the living room, watching TV until he couldn’t keep his eyes open, hoping he’d be tired enough to sleep without the damn dreams.

“You sleep at all last night?” his father’s rumbling voice asked behind him and Dean sighed.

“Sam talks too much.”

“Don’t need Sam to tell me you ain’t sleeping.”

Dean walked away from his father. He did not want to be having this conversation. “I’m fine. I’m going to need to order parts for this.” He waved his hand at the car.

“It doesn’t need parts, Dean. It needs a mechanic who is actually awake to work on it.” He was following Dean into the office. “What’s going on with you?”

“Nothing. I said I was fine.”

“Sam doesn’t agree.”

“Like I said, Sam talks too much.”

“He’s worried about you.”

Dean growled and rubbed his face. “I said I was fine.”

“And I heard what you said.”

Dean turned sharply. “You’re one to talk.”

John straightened up and looked at him. “What does that mean?”

Dean waved a hand at him. “The back, the headaches. You going to tell me you’re taking care of yourself?”

“I’m old Dean. It’s just hard living, catching up to me.”

Dean snorted. “Yeah, I guess I can say the same.”

John’s face softened. “Let me finish the Chrysler. Go home, get some sleep. Enjoy your empty nest.”

He **was** tired. He sighed. “Yeah, okay. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

 

 

It was bitter cold. Of course, it was January. It was supposed to be cold. But Dana had been cold to the bone since the thing with Professor Jacobs. By the time she arrived back at the dorm, she’d been distracted and fumbly and almost backed out of coffee with Becca, the new roomy. She could see the look in her eyes though, and caved.

They spent an hour at the coffee shop, chatting about classes and various stuff. Curiously the topic never really strayed to boys, even though Dana mentioned Scott more than once, and Becca asked if Scott was Dana’s boyfriend…but Dana didn’t even know how to answer that question, and left it with, “Well, it’s complicated.”

Dana had to head to the library. Two days into classes and she already had a research thing to do and, worse than that, she was supposed to work with a partner.

After meeting said partner, Joey Malroney, she knew her luck was improving. He was both smart and efficient, so the whole process ended up pretty simple and painless. They’d divided the assignment, discussed basics and got to work.

Her phone buzzed against her hip as she was packing up to head back to her room. She frowned at it, surprised to see Scott’s number. She flipped it open as she waved goodbye to Joey and headed out of the library, pulling her coat on and shivering a little in the cold. It had gotten dark while she worked. “Hey.”

“Hey.” He hesitated, his breath vibrating against her ear. “You left your sweater here.”

“I did?” She didn’t remember having a sweater on.

“Either that or it got put in one of my boxes. Either way it’s here.”

“I’m just leaving the library. You going to be there?”

“Yeah, got a ton of work.”

“Me too.” She veered off the main path onto the jogging trail that ran through the grove and toward the dorm buildings. “This has been the suckiest day. I want to pop a big bowl of popcorn and watch some stupid movie and vegetate in my pajamas…but I have a ton of reading to do.”

Scott snorted at her. “You? Since when?”

“Hush. I read.”

“Yeah, trashy romance novels and those true crime things and those scary things in the closet. I can count on one hand the number of times I’ve seen you actually read a school book. You look shit up, that isn’t the same.”

It felt nice…talking. Just talking. About nothing. His voice was honey sweet in her ear. She sighed a little.

“New professor.” Dana said. She was nearly to the grove. The temperature was dropping and she stopped, propping the phone against her shoulder as she zippered her jacket and tightened her hood. “Can’t skate by this time.”

“Wow.” Scott didn’t elaborate.

Dana rolled her eyes. “I’m half way to you. Just going into the Grove.”

It was oddly dark and as she reached the first light post, she figured out why. There was no light. “Hmm…odd.”

“What?” She could hear something in his voice change, tighten.

“Nothing. Lights are out.” She kept moving, but something was not quite right. She could feel it. “It’s really dark.”

“You’re right, I can’t even see the path.” Scott said. “I have a clear shot from my window. Send up a flair so I can see you.”

She sighed. “Scott. I can’t do that.”

“No one will see.”

She rolled her eyes, but was touched that he was concerned. “Okay, but only a quick one.” She looked around her quickly, and created a little orb of light, launching it skyward.

“I see it.”

“You can be such a geek.” Dana chuckled and started forward again, then froze. Not quite right became very wrong, very quickly.

“Dana?”

“Scott?” He sounded like he was at the end of a tunnel and the dark deepened. Taking a disoriented step forward, everything suddenly shut down around her. She couldn’t see, couldn’t hear. Her _senses_ were gone. Everything.

“Scott!” She could feel her scream tearing at her throat, but couldn’t hear a sound. She could barely feel the phone in her hand. “Scott!”

She turned. Held her hands out. Tried to find her way out of…well, she didn’t know. It was worse than any dampening field. It was worse than when Sam had first cut off their connection. At least then she could still _feel_ and _see_.

Dana stumbled. Her hand hit something and the phone scattered. The world tilted. Hands. Those were hands. She screamed and flailed, not really controlling her body. Panic flooded her as she went down. She screamed for Scott, for Sam, for Dad, for Papa. Then there was a heavy weight on top of her and she couldn’t breathe.

 

 

Sam poured another glass of wine before retaking his seat.

“Not that I don’t appreciate it, but what’s with the china and stuff?” Dean asked, polishing off his steak.

“We’re celebrating.” Sam replied. “The house is ours, you’re mine. I’m yours. And we have the rest of our lives to enjoy it.”

Dean was eyeing him suspiciously, his thoughts surging over the connection to dig out the truth. Sam reached for his hand, then froze, pushing Dean away physically as well as mentally. He steadied himself on the table and stood, panting as the pain ripped through him.

“Dana.” He reached for her, reached for the panicked thought thrown his way, but she was…gone. Just emptiness. “Oh, god. Dean. Car.” He was half way to the door before Dean caught him, steadying him.

“What is it?” Dean was tight lipped, but not pushing to get into Sam’s head.

“Don’t know. Drive. Fast.”

 

 

Scott squinted into the Grove as Dana’s voice faltered. With the first scream, he yelled into the phone, heading out at a dead run. “Come on Dana, talk to me!”

He skidded around the corner and down the stairs. “Dana!” Dana didn’t scream. Not like that. Not like she was terrified.

The phone went dead and he thumbed the button that dialed Dean. “Where is she?” Dean asked.

“Grove. She’s in the middle of the grove.” Scott yelled, running down the jogging path as fast as his feet would take him. “She’s in trouble.”

“We’re coming.”

“Not fast enough.” Scott raced toward the place where he’d seen the light. It was darker in the trees, like something had sucked all the light away.

He felt her, more than saw her or heard her at first. Something dark was on top of her, holding her down.

“NO!” Scott screamed and launched himself at them, his shoulder slamming into the dark figure and sending them both hurtling away. A foot connected with his groin and Scott yelled, scrambling to try to get his hands on the man, but he slipped through Scott’s hands and took off running.

Scott crawled back to Dana. Dean’s voice was yelling at him through the phone he’d dropped beside her. “Scott! Damn you, answer me.”

The dark was starting to lift. Her face was bloody, her clothes disheveled, torn.

Scott lifted the phone in a shaking hand. “I’ve got her. I found her. Oh, god.”

He sat beside her. “Dana?” He swallowed dry. “Dana…can you hear me?” He brushed a shaking hand over her forehead, over a bloody cheek. “My god, Dana.”

“Where are you.” Dean’s voice was shaky, frightened.

“G-grove…between the dorms and the student union. Half…half way.” Scott’s heart pounded. “It got away. I tried…”

“We’re almost there Scott. Stay with her.”

“She’s out cold. She’s…she screamed…” Dana stirred, her whole body jerking. Her head turned and Scott could see a bloody knot at the back of her head. He reached for it, then thought better of it. Now he understood why she wanted to study medicine. He felt so helpless sitting there beside her.

“Dana!” Dean’s voice echoed through the phone and the trees.

“Over here!” Scott shouted, just as Sam and Dean came into view. “He…it… he…that way.” He pointed off the way the man-thing had run. Dean skidded to his knees while Sam took off down the path.

“Dana. Dana, talk to me.” Dean lifted her shoulders and slid in under her, wiping at the blood on her face. She groaned and flailed. “It’s Dad, Dana. I’ve got you.”

Sam came running back, panting. “She…I don’t think she can feel you Dean.” He fell to his knees beside them, grabbing her hand and closing her eyes.

“What do you mean?” Dean looked at him, but Sam was obviously busy and didn’t respond. “Sam!”

His eyes opened. “She’s…okay…Broken nose, wrist, maybe ribs…She’s…shut down. I’ve never seen anything like it.” He reached for Dean’s hand. “We need to get her to a hospital, but she’ll be okay.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dana deals (or doesn't) with the fall out of the attack, while the boys try to rally around her and still track down the bastard who did it.

Scott was slumped down in the chair across the room. Dean was pacing. Sam sat on the bed, his hand on Dana’s uninjured hand. He was trying to find something to tell him what had happened.

Suddenly, Dean was beside him. “We should have killed it.” Dean’s voice cracked a little. “We should have fucking killed it.”

Sam opened his eyes, reached for Dean. “It wasn’t Bellius Dean.” 

It had been his first fear too. That somehow Bellius had escaped and attacked Dana because it couldn’t get to Sam. But there was no evidence of that, there were no tracks of psychic violence, no shredding of memory and mental defenses. There were no mental defenses at all. They were just gone, as if they’d never been there at all.

He still got no sense of her presence, or rather, he did…but it wasn’t _Dana,_ it was…flat. Like Scott or any other person with no gifts. Nothing to interact with. It affected more than her extra senses too. From what he could tell, she’d been blinded and deafened at the very least. He wasn’t sure what or how, but something or someone had put Dana down, more effectively than anything he could have imagined.

“If not that thing, then what?” Dean asked. ‘What could do this to her?”

Sam squeezed Dean’s hand. “I don’t know Dean. But we’ll find out.”

“It was a guy.” Scott said suddenly. “Just…a guy. Solid, you know? I hit him.”

Sam turned to look at him. “Did you get a good look?”

Scott shook his head. “It was dark. He was…big, like you. He…was strong. I couldn’t stop him.” 

Sam slid off the bed and went to Scott. “Would it be okay if I looked? If I tried to see what you saw?”

Scott blanched white, his eyes skipping to Dean, then back. “Yeah…I mean…it’s not like I can stop you anyway.”

Sam squatted in front of him. “I promise you Scott, I have never and will never enter your mind without permission except in an emergency.”

Scott nodded, but didn’t look any happier about it. “What should I do?”

“Just relax. Close your eyes and take a deep breath and let it out slowly.” He waited until Scott had let the breath out, and made his intrusion as gently as possible. _Show me._

The memory spooled out, panic flooding through him as he realized something was wrong, the sight of the dark shadow on top of Dana. He wasn’t as big as Scott had recounted, the dark and fear playing together to make him huge in Scott’s mind. Sam backed out and up and stood.

“Thank you. That helps. Why don’t you see about getting some coffee. I have the feeling it’s going to be a long night.” He waited until Scott left to react, anger spilling into his veins as he turned to Dean. “He’s right. It was just a man.” He reached for Dean mentally, drawing him to him. “It wasn’t supernatural. What he wanted…”

Dean stiffened as he sensed where Sam’s thoughts went. “No. Dana doesn’t get put down like this by normal. Not Dana. Not my little girl.” 

Sam wrapped his arms around him. “She’s okay.”

Dean shuddered, holding to Sam. Sam brought up the image he’d taken from Scott, held it where they could both see. There wasn’t much detail, all dark and shadow. It was straddling her, hitting her, touching her.

Dean pulled back, pulled away. “Stop. Just stop.”

There was a groan from the bed and they turned in unison. “Dana, honey?”

Her eyes weren’t open, but her hand fluttered to her head. She jumped when Dean touched her. “Dana, open your eyes.”

She did, but looked panicked, her eyes darting from Dean to Sam and back again. “Dad? Sam? I can’t….” Both hands went to her head. “I can’t feel you…why…” Her eyes caught on the splint on her right hand and she fought to breathe. 

Sam reached for her, soothing her. _I’m right here Dana._

She looked at him, squinting. He could tell she was trying to find their connection. “Easy, honey. You’re hurt. Don’t push.” She swallowed and lowered her hands. “Can you tell us what happened?”

She shook her head. “I…I don’t really know. I was walking, talking to Scott…then everything went dark and I couldn’t…” She looked up at Dean with tears in her eyes. “He was right there and I couldn’t sense him. He…he was right there…and he…grabbed me…and…”

Big tears spilled onto her cheeks and Dean gathered her up in his arms, stroking over her back. “It’s okay. You’re safe. I’ve got you.”

 

_The dark is close, stifling, smothering. She reaches out, but there is nothing there…no sound, no light…just the stifling black and the taste of blood. Then there are hands…falling and flailing and hands on her feet, on her thighs…heavy weight holding her down. She screams, but there’s no sound, no words…just endless silence and terror as those hands touch her._

Dana jerked awake, panting, gulping at the air. Her vision was still blurry, but she could make out the head laying next to her hand as her father’s. She started when she saw movement to her right, even more when the dark shadow moved toward her, but as he got close enough she realized it was Sam.

“Hey.”

She swallowed and looked away.

“Bad dream?”

She couldn’t feel him. It was disconcerting. It was too quiet without him there in her head. Without all of them. Only her own voice, her own thoughts. 

“Scott chased the guy off. But he didn’t get a good look.” Sam said and she closed her eyes. He wanted permission to look inside her. That’s what she would want.

“I didn’t see him. Blind at the time.” Dana said, crossing her arms.

“I know.” Sam’s voice was gentle, but it grated, stung. She couldn’t even defend herself. She couldn’t have stopped him. 

Dana licked her lips and looked at Sam. “What…what did he do? To my head?”

Sam pressed his lips together. “I haven’t figured it out. He turned you off somehow.”

“Well…turn me back on. I can’t feel anything.”

“If I could, you know I would.”

She paled, realizing he had probably already been in her head. He had probably already seen it all. He was probably in there right now, monitoring her. She started shaking. “I need to…I want out of here. It’s not safe here.”

“Dana, calm down.” 

She started to pull the covers off, waking her father. “Get out of my head Sam…and get out of the way.” Her feet found the floor and her right ankle gave out. Sam caught her and she screamed involuntarily, pulling away and landing on the cold floor. 

Nothing was right. Everything felt stilted and wrong. Her father knelt beside her, but she pulled away, covered her face. “Don’t….don’t touch me.” She was trembling. Weak. It disgusted her. 

“Dana.” Her father’s voice was in her ear, too close. 

She tried to pull it all inside, but it wasn’t the same. She couldn’t swallow the fear.

“Let me help.” Sam said softly, his hand on her cheek.

She shook her head, though it was hard to discern due to the shaking of her entire body. “I just…I can’t.” She looked up at him, through tears. 

“Let’s just get you off the floor.” Dean said, looking meaningfully up at Sam. She knew they were connected, that they were sliding thoughts back and forth…thoughts about her. 

She didn’t fight as he helped her up. Sam backed away, over to the door. She didn’t look at him, didn’t want to see the hurt on his face. Dana turned into her father, her face buried in his neck. “Please, Daddy…just take me home. I want to go home.”

“You have a pretty serious concussion, and broken ribs and a broken nose. You need to stay where the doctors can keep an eye on you,” he said softly, his hand stroking down her back. “We’re not leaving.” 

She shivered, holding him tight. He didn’t smell like her father. His skin felt strange. She pulled back. Closed her eyes. Panic seized her. What if it wasn’t real? What if this wasn’t her father? Not Sam? 

“I just want to be alone.” It was a lie. She was terrified of being alone. Terrified that it would come back. Whatever it was. At the moment, she was just as terrified that none of this was real.

Her father looked at Sam. Sam nodded a little. Her father stood, kissed her forehead. “We’ll be right outside.”

When the door closed, Dana doubled forward, clutching at her stomach. Her ribs hurt, and queasy waves of terror rolled through her. It didn’t make sense. None of it. She couldn’t see right, her hearing was muffled. What if it was all a lie? What if they didn’t feel like Dad and Sam because they weren’t Dad and Sam?

Or worse. What if they were, and she could never feel them again?

 

Dean closed the door and leaned against it, his eyes closed. Sam was a warm blanket over his back, physically and mentally holding him while he fought back the tears. Seeing his little girl like that…terrified. Dana was seldom even afraid.

He hadn’t wanted to leave her, but Sam gave him a good indication of what was going through her head, and their being there wasn’t helping. In fact, it was only making it worse.

He leaned into Sam, into the warm pool of Sam. _I’ve never seen her so afraid._

Sam’s hands stroked over his back. _She’s a strong girl, she’ll be okay…but being without her gifts must be terrifying. She’s never been without them._

Dean took a deep breath and stood straight. “So, what **could** do this?” Dean shifted back to verbal words, but held tight to the connection.

Sam sighed. “Honestly? I don’t really know. I mean…I’ve heard of gifts being repressed, and there’s a story or two about an adept being stripped of their gifts, but those are mostly myth…warnings about abuse.”

Dean froze, remembering Dana’s fear that she took the dark stuff far too casually…and Bellius, who had tried to strip Sam of at least one of his gifts. “You don’t think…”

Sam shook his head. “No, it’s all there…it’s just…dormant, or something.”

“How is that even possible?”

“I wish I knew. If I had to guess, it’s almost like some…spell.” Sam turned suddenly, looking at the door to Dana’s room. “Like a spell to suspend her senses.”

“You know a spell like that?”

Sam made a face. “Sort of. I remember reading about one. It was used for initiations, more complete than blindfolds and ear plugs I guess. Problem is, spells like that are notoriously hard to control. It takes practice to narrow the focus…and the slightest disruption of control, can leave a person alone inside themselves with no access to the outside world.”

“So…we’re looking for someone with practice?”

Sam shook his head. “No, I don’t think so. I think the bulk of the spell took out her gifts, and that’s why he didn’t blow out her other senses completely.”

Dean was trying to follow Sam’s thoughts, but they were jumping from books to stories to a newspaper story from the week before. Dean frowned. He remembered the story. 

A young woman was found near the downtown post office. She’d been assaulted and left for dead. She was catatonic and eventually she died from complications to her injuries. Dean whistled low. “You think that’s our guy too?”

Sam shrugged. “I don’t know. It would explain why she was catatonic. She was conscious but had no way to interact with the world around her.”

 _That could have been Dana._ The thought echoed through both of them. 

“But it wasn’t.” Sam said softly.

Dean nodded. “What about her power? Will it come back?”

“Her eyesight and hearing did, but they took less of the blow. I really don’t know. This is new territory.”

“Well, you’re book boy, you better get started. When she’s ready to talk, she’s going to want answers.”

“You going to be okay here alone?”

Dean nodded. “Yeah, go. I’ll be fine. I’ll call Dad, fill him in.”

Sam kissed his cheek and headed down the hall. Dean sank into the chair outside Dana’s door and slowly slouched until his head was on the back of it. Daylight was coming, and a part of Dean wanted to be out there hunting down the bastard who had tried to…who had hurt his girl. A bigger part of him wouldn’t dream of leaving her, so alone and vulnerable.

 

Sam knocked and waited, smiling as he felt his father approaching the door. His smile faded when the door opened. John Winchester was not a morning person by any stretch of the imagination, but Sam hadn’t seen him look so rough in a long time.

“Over slept.” John grumbled, stepping aside to let Sam in. “Dean called, told me what happened.”

“We would have called last night, but she didn’t need four guys hanging out in her room.”

“We know what it was yet?”

“Who not what.” Sam corrected, watching John pad into the kitchen with his bathrobe half off one shoulder.

“Who?” John peeked back out of the kitchen.

“Yeah. Who.” Sam grimaced and turned to the giant bookshelves that dominated the west wall of his father’s apartment. “You have this ancient spell book…it’s hand written, black cover.”

“Top shelf, left side.” John said, returning to the living room with two cups of coffee. “What’s in it?”

Sam stood on his toes and ran a hand over the book spines until he felt it and pulled it to him. “If I remember correctly, a spell that could do what happened to Dana.”

He took the book to the couch and took the cup of coffee from his father. 

“What exactly did happen?” John sat, holding his cup of coffee close to him as if needing the warmth that floated off the hot liquid.

Sam shrugged and took a sip before he opened the book. “Essentially, I think he used a spell to knock all her senses off line. It should be temporary. She’s already getting her vision and hearing back.”

“So witch? What?”

Sam shrugged again. “I don’t know.” And he was sick of having to say that. “I’ve called in a few favors, and I have people working on it…but I think that our best bet is going to be figuring out what spell he’s using and track it the next time he uses it.”

“Next time?” John glared at him. “What do you mean, next time?”

Sam put the book down and looked at him. Obviously Dean didn’t relay the whole story. “I think he’s a…he’s done it before. He’ll do it again.”

“Are you saying he wasn’t targeting Dana?”

“Not specifically no.”

They were both quiet for a minute. John didn’t look up when he spoke. “Dana…she’s…okay?”

Sam licked his lips. “Scott got there before he could…do much. Most of her injuries are from her struggle to get away, and when she hit the ground.”

“That’s twice that boy has saved her life.” John muttered. “You said there were other victims?”

Sam nodded. “Naomi Walnot. She was 19, dark hair. Found near her car downtown. She’d been beat up, raped, stabbed. She was unresponsive. Died from an infection in one of her wounds.”

“I’ll see if I can get my buddy to run the pattern, maybe…maybe he’s hit somewhere else before. Maybe start narrowing it down.” 

“Good. You work from that direction, I’ll take this and see what I can do on the magical side of things.”

“Trap him in the middle.” John nodded. When he looked at Sam his normally warm eyes were hard and cold. “And then he learns what happens when you mess with a Winchester.”

 

Dana managed to get from her bed to the bathroom, though it was far more work than it should have been. Her depth perception was trashed, and her ankle screamed in pain. Nothing was where it should be…nothing felt right, normal.

The image in the mirror was worse than she’d anticipated. Both eyes were black and blue, her nose taped down. There were stitches in her chin, though she couldn’t remember why, and two small stitches on her cheek where she remembered his fist connecting at least twice.

Her ribs were taped up, her ankle wrapped. There was a splint on her wrist. There was a knot on the back of her head that the doctors were blaming for the loss of vision and hearing.

Still, she’d gotten off light. With no way of knowing who or what or where her attacker was, Dana could have gotten herself killed. He clearly liked causing pain. He kept hitting her even after she’d gone down. Though, she didn’t really feel it at the time. It was as odd, knowing she was going to die…and not being able to see or hear or feel or smell anything. 

She knew though. Knew he would kill her…but not before he had his fun. Not before he made her bleed. Not before he touched her. Used her.

Dana shuddered and turned her back on the mirror. The movement rocked her and she nearly fell. Her balance was shot. She couldn’t even stand up like a normal person.

She felt alone. Scared and alone. Anyone could walk in on her and she’d be defenseless. Everything she was lay open and bare. Slowly, Dana closed the bathroom door, locked it, and slid down to sit on the floor against it.

It didn’t make her feel any safer.

 

“You look beat.”

Dean looked up at his father who held out a bag of take out and a cup of coffee. He sighed and nodded. “I am.”

“How’s our girl?”

Dean looked at the door, then up at his father. “Scared to death.” He took the coffee. “Doctor says that she can probably go home later today.”

“That’s good.”

Dean sipped at the coffee. “Yeah, I guess.” He hated how helpless he felt. “I’ve never been so afraid.”

“Has she given you any description of the guy?”

Dean shook his head. “Cops were here an hour or so ago. She barely spoke to them. She asked me to leave her alone again as soon as they were gone. Scott was here, but he had to get to class.” 

John came to sit beside him. “What about Scott?”

Dean closed his eyes, the image Sam had gotten from Scott filling his mind. “He didn’t get a good look, he was focused on getting the bastard off of Dana.” Dean’s hand was shaking. He took a deep breath. His father’s hand touched his shoulder.

“Why don’t you go get some sleep? I’ll stay.”

Dean shook his head. “Not leaving her.”

The hand on his shoulder tightened. “Dean, you’re going to end up in a room down the hall yourself if you don’t sleep soon.”

“I know. But…I can’t, Dad. I can’t leave her.”

Screams erupted from the room, blood curdling, terrified screams. Dean dropped the coffee and was in the room before his father had even stood. Dana was sitting up, panting, her eyes filled with fear. Dean crossed the room and reached for her but she pulled away.

“Dana, honey. It’s Dad.”

She swallowed, looking from him to the doorway and back. “I-I thought…he was here…I couldn’t feel him.” She took in a deep, shaky breath. “I’m okay.” He wasn’t sure if she was trying to convince him or herself.

Dean sat on the bed beside her. “I’m right here, Dana. Not letting anything near you.”

“I know. I do.” Her eyes darted to the door again and she started, then relaxed. “Papa?”

“Right here, baby girl.” John said, coming to sit on the other side of the bed. “How are you feeling?”

“Pretty shaky.” Dana said, dragging her hand through her hair. “Kind of drugged. Really sore.” 

“The doctor said he was going to let you go home soon.” Dean offered. 

“Home?” She looked shaken at the idea. “With you?”

Dean nodded. “At least for now.”

“Yeah, okay.” She nodded, pulling her knees up to her chest. “For now.”


	3. Lessons Learned

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Scott struggles with his feelings for Dana and his need to hold on to normal. Sam visits the people Dana saw the day of the attack, including the physics professor.

Scott watched as police scoured the grove. They’d already questioned him about the attack, what he saw. It felt strange, talking to them, but Sam said to be as honest as he could, so he was.

He stood in a small group of students, looking at the place where Dana had hit the ground. He couldn’t close his eyes without seeing it. Without seeing her. Without hearing her screaming his name.

He’d been to the hospital, but she wasn’t talking and barely looked at him. He’d left because it hurt to see her like that. She was Dana Winchester. Invincible. Untouchable.

He had to admit, he’d treated her pretty badly since his return to Lawrence, partly because he thought of her that way, unbreakable. Sure, part of it was rebellion too. After all, he was pretty screwed if she didn’t want him. He would be stuck. Sam would own him until Sam died…and then…Scott didn’t really want to think about that.

Although he was still having trouble with the entire concept. There were laws for shit like this. Or there should be. No body, no matter what special gifts they have should have the right to just claim a person for their own. It was fucked up.

Not that anything with the Winchesters had ever been normal. And, if he was honest, that was part of his attraction to Dana. She wasn’t like anyone else. She was strong willed and intelligent, beautiful, talented. And, okay, so she could move stuff with her mind and read people’s thoughts…and who knew what else…but she was pretty damn special.

More than once he’d thought she could be the one. The one he could spend his life with. And that probably had something to do with how hard he’d been pushing her away too. It was terrifying to think like that.

Then there was the party-girl she’d turned into after he left.

He was stung by the fact that she had thrown herself into the idea of seeing other people…while he sort of hadn’t meant it and got screwed up by it…and maybe in the back of his mind he still thought of her as his…so seeing her like that had freaked him out. More than a little.

Now though…he wanted nothing more than to hold her and make it okay for her. He couldn’t fathom what it was like, to be suddenly without those gifts that were like second nature for her. She was terrified. He could see it in her eyes, and that scared him. He didn’t ever remember seeing Dana scared.

Not even with the whole zombie prom thing.

Scott turned and headed for his dorm. He didn’t need to watch to know that the only thing the police would find was Dana’s blood on the ground. There was a note on his door when he got there, scribbled in Sam’s handwriting.

> Scott,
> 
> Dana’s gone home with Dean and Dad. Dinner’s at 7. I’d like to talk to you.
> 
> Sam

.

Nothing like being summoned by your owner.

 

 

Sam looked down at Dana’s schedule, then up at the math building. So far he had spoken to two of her professors and a handful of students, including her partner for her research project, Joey Malroney. He had truthfully been Sam’s first suspect when he’d scanned her mind for a basic understanding of where she’d been and what she’d been doing before the attack.

After meeting the guy though, Sam was convinced he was still in the library when it happened. The kid was carrying a double course load and spent more time in the library than he did his dorm room.

Which brought him here. Professor George Jacobs. He was new to the school, brought in to replace Anita Lasken, who had a serious car accident over the Christmas break.

He had scared Dana. Sam hadn’t pried out all the details. Not without her permission. He only had a few scattered thoughts and a sense of anxiety.

As Sam entered the building, he scanned it, felt the sink of another adept camouflaging his presence and turned down the hall. He stopped at the office door. Sam adjusted his shielding, but didn’t hide his presence, then knocked on the door.

“It’s open.”

He entered the room, his eyes drawn instantly to the Professor, assessing him against what he knew of the attack. He was the right basic body size and shape.

Professor Jacobs looked up. “Can I help you?”

Sam offered a brief smile. “I’m Sam Winchester.”

“Ah yes, I was wondering how long it would take.”

“Excuse me?”

Jacobs folded his hands. “I scared her, right? And she went running to you to come ‘talk’ to me.”

“Well, you did upset her, but she didn’t come running. She’s not that kind of girl.”

“Could have fooled me.” Jacobs pushed his chair back, gesturing to a chair for Sam to sit. “She’s spoiled, undisciplined and I got the distinct impression that she’s never had to work for anything.”

Sam sat, still trying to get a handle on the guy. He was obviously very skilled, strong. “She is spoiled. I’m afraid that’s my fault.”

“I assure you, Mr. Winchester, in my class Dana will have to work for her grade. I won’t allow her to skate by. Not with the kind of skills she possesses. She deserves better.”

Despite himself, Sam was inclined to like the guy. “I have to ask where you were trained. If I’m going to let her have contact with you.”

Jacobs raised an eyebrow. “My grandmother, actually.” His eyes narrowed. “You’re fishing for something.”

Sam considered, then figured he might as well go for broke. “Dana was assaulted last night. The man who did it used magic to disable her.”

“And you think I did it?”

Sam looked him in the eye. To his surprise, Jacobs thinned his defenses and offered himself to Sam. He showed Sam the interchange with Dana, his next class, his meeting with his dean, and his return home to his wife and daughter.

“I have nothing to hide, Mr. Winchester.”

Sam nodded. “You do a good job of hiding, for someone who has nothing to hide.”

Jacobs buttoned up his defenses again, nodding. “When I was Dana’s age, my grandmother died. I had a period where I bucked all the rules she had enforced, where I played and did things I’m not proud of. I attracted a lot of unwanted attention. It took me years to get clear of it. Now, I keep things locked down. It’s just easier.”

Sam stood. “I guess I understand that. Thank you for your time. I need to get home to Dana.”

“I hope she’s okay.”

“She will be.” He held out his hand and shook Jacobs’. “It was nice to meet you.”

Sam left the building and sighed. His two primary suspects had turned out to be a bust. That left him back at ground zero. It could be anybody.

 

 

Dana had been forced to concede that this was real. That this wasn’t some elaborate illusion. Her father had carried her upstairs to her room, settled her into her bed. The familiar space should have been comforting. It wasn’t.

“You hungry?” he asked as he finished putting stuff within reach; a pile of books, her laptop, the remote for the television.

She shook her head, then remembered how dizzy it made her. She closed her eyes and gripped the bed with her left hand. “Not really,” she said as the wave passed. “Still queasy from the pain pills.”

He nodded and sat gently on the end of the bed. “I know this has to be hard. But we’re all here for you.”

“I know, Daddy. I know.” She took a deep breath. “I’m sorry I was so…difficult.”

“Don’t be. You’re scared. So were we.” His hand was warm on her leg. “Are your eyes better?”

“Some. You aren’t blurry anymore.” She adjusted her position, shuffling pillows behind her. “Hearing is almost normal.”

“What about the rest?” He looked so concerned.

She blinked. Swallowed. “Nothing.” Her voice was small, quiet. “What if…what if it never comes back?”

Dana couldn’t look at him. It was too terrifying. Too heavy.

“It will, honey. Just give it time.”

Time. Wait. Patience. She sighed. “I feel so…vulnerable. Alone.” She closed her eyes. She hadn’t meant to say that. His hand tightened on her calf. “I know I’m not. But I feel it. I should be able to lie here in this bed and know who’s in the house. And I can’t.”

Just like she hadn’t felt Professor Jacobs. Just like she hadn’t felt the guy who attacked her.

“Your Papa is downstairs, and I’m right here. Sam’s on his way home. Scott’s coming for dinner.”

She knew he was trying to help, and she didn’t have the heart to tell him that it only made her feel worse. “Scott…if he hadn’t…” She swallowed and grabbed her father’s hand. “If he hadn’t come for me…that guy would have…he was trying to…” She shivered, remembering how she knew what he was doing, and couldn’t feel it, couldn’t stop him.

“Shh…honey, I know. I know.” He moved forward, folded his arms around her. “Scott chased him away. You’re okay.”

She wasn’t okay. She knew it. She held him as tight as she could. It was the only way to feel him…the strong, center of him that always held her safe. She needed to feel it, to feel him…because she felt like she’d never be safe again.

 

 

“So, you’re saying we’ve got nothing?” Dean asked as Sam popped the top on a beer and leaned against the counter.

Sam made a face, but nodded. “Pretty much.” He took a long drink. “Whoever this guy is, he’s good. There’s no trail, no evidence. Nothing.”

“And the professor guy was clean?”

Sam sighed. “I don’t know that I’d say clean, but it wasn’t him. We should keep an eye on him, but I don’t think he did this.”

Dean shooed him out of the way so he could pour the sauce into a bowl. “Why don’t you bring her down. I’ll finish this.” He kissed Sam briefly. He fought the urge to throw the pot of sauce against the wall. Somewhere out there was a man who hurt his little girl. And even Sam couldn’t find him.

The frustration was building, adding to his desperate need for sleep and his fear. He could hear his father talking, assumed Scott had shown up. Dean took a deep breath and sucked it all back inside. He would put on a good face for Dana. He could fall apart later.

 

Sam knew how close Dean was to breaking, knew that Dana was only barely holding on. It was going to be a long night in the Winchester house. He knocked on her door and waited for her shaky voice to call him in.

She looked better than she had in the hospital, but that was as much to do with being in her own clothes and in her own room as it did with any improvement in her condition.

“Your dad made Sp’etti.” Sam said with a grin.

She smiled wanly. “Sp’etti fixes everything.” Of course, it hadn’t fixed everything since she was five, but it was the go-to dish whenever comfort was needed.

“How you doing?”

She took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “I don’t know.”

“Fair enough.” He slipped into the room. “You don’t have to come down. You can stay, I’ll bring you a tray.”

She made a face and licked her lips. “I can’t hide forever.”

“Not forever. Just…until you’re feeling stronger.”

“What if I don’t. I mean, ever?” She didn’t look up at him. “What if this is how I am now? What if…” Her voice trailed off, and she blinked at the tears in her eyes.

Sam came to sit on the bed. “Then you’ll adjust. We all will.”

“Are you…in here?” She gestured vaguely at her head. “I mean…I can’t tell…and I know you must be scared too…”

He shook his head lightly. “No, Dana. I’m not. Never without your permission.”

She nodded slightly. “I just…it’s weird. Not knowing.”

“I imagine it is.” He wanted to be able to comfort her, to wrap her up in his thoughts and hold her like he always had, but he couldn’t. “I could…maybe help take the edge off, if you wanted.”

She stiffened and he knew it was too soon. “How about dinner then? You up to it?”

“Sp’etti fixes everything,” she repeated.

“Sp’etti it is then.”

 

 

John’s cell phone rang as they were finishing a quiet dinner and he excused himself into the living room to take the call. He had a few friends on the local police force and he’d called in more than a few favors.

“Paul, whatcha got?” He paced, listening to the recounting of a familiar story. Two girls in Witchita, another in Kansas City. No suspects. No evidence. One of them survived, but she was in a catatonic state, unresponsive. All over the last year.

John felt his stomach tighten. “Thanks Paul. I’ll get back to you if I find anything.”

This fuckwad was due some serious justice.

He went back to the dining room and sat back down. He felt their eyes and looked up, at Dana first, then Dean and Sam. “Nothing. Just more of the same.”

Dana sighed and seemed to sag in her seat. She seemed so frail and broken. “Scott, take Dana upstairs.” John said in a tone that left no room for argument. Scott nodded and pushed his chair back, before helping Dana out of hers and supporting her to the stairs.

John waited until they were behind the bedroom door. “Paul found three similar cases. Two in Wichita, the other in Kansas City.”

“Any suspects?” Dean asked.

John shook his head. “They hadn’t even related the cases until Paul started snooping. The two in Wichita died. The girl in Kansas City was first. She’s catatonic. Hasn’t spoken since it happened.”

“So now what?” Dean asked.

Sam took a deep breath. “Now, you go to bed. Let Dad and I do some hunting.”

“Like hell.” Dean stood, grabbing at dirty plates.

“I agree with Sam. You need sleep.” John said.

“Like hell.” Dean repeated. “In case the two of you have forgotten, that’s my little girl.”

Sam stood, took the plates out of his hand. “In case you’ve forgotten, you’re her father, and she needs you. If you fall apart because you’re not taking care of yourself, how are you going to take care of her?”

John watched them, watched Sam shift from words to thoughts, and watched Dean give in. Sam folded his arms around him then looked at John. “Give me a few minutes. I have an idea.”

 

 

Sam watched Dean pace the room for a few minutes. “Please?” he finally said and Dean sat on his side of the bed.

“If I let you put me under, and Dana needs me…”

“I’m going to ask Scott to stay until we get back. We won’t be gone long.” Sam pushed off the dresser. “It’s better than the pills.”

“Until the hangover.”

Sam smiled. “My touch is softer than Dana’s. I promise.”

Dean kicked off his shoes and stood to strip down to his boxers. Sam knew he was exhausted, but he also knew that the nightmares would wake him an hour or so later if he let him go to sleep without the help. At least this way Sam could hold the dreams off for a few hours.

It was a temporary fix.

Dean laid down and closed his eyes, then lifted his head and opened them again. “Come on. Get on with it.”

_Relax._

Sam sat on his side of the bed, then laid out beside Dean, their bodies only inches apart. Dean was far from relaxed, his body tense and tight. His mind, normally a fairly orderly place, was filled with random thoughts and images. Sam brushed against his thoughts in warning, then slipped in. For the first few minutes they just lay together, then Sam started pushing thoughts back behind barriers, creating a space of calm.

He shored up the temporary walls. Dean’s body was slowly settling, his muscles loosening, his breathing slowing. _That’s it. Good._

There was another barrage of images, a wave of terror. Sam deflected them, walled them up. They were going to have to deal with that soon. Whether Dean wanted to or not.

_I’m going to take you down now, don’t fight._

He pressed against Dean’s settling consciousness, gently guiding him into a soft, dark place. He felt it when Dean slipped into sleep and slowly pulled himself out. He waited, watched, made sure Dean was really asleep before kissing him lightly on the forehead, then standing and heading down the hall to Dana’s room.

He knocked and opened the door. Scott gestured for quiet. Sam nodded and beckoned him with a finger. Once he was in the hall, Sam pulled the door shut and looked at him. “I was hoping I could ask a favor.”

Scott frowned a little. “Of course.”

“I need you to stay here for a few hours and keep and eye on Dana and Dean. John and I are going to do a little hunting.”

“You want me to keep an eye on Dean?”

“Mostly so that he doesn’t try to come after us. He’s asleep right now, but he hasn’t been sleeping well, and he might wake up.”

“Like I’m going to stop him?” Scott shook his head. “I’ll stay, but no promises.”

Sam chuckled. “Call me if you need anything, or if Dean gets obnoxious.”

“Your note said you wanted to talk.”

Sam patted his shoulder. “I do, and we will. I just need to do this first.” He left Sam and headed down the stairs. “You ready?”

John nodded. “What’s this idea?” he asked as they headed out, climbing into Sam’s SUV.

“Something tells me this guy is hunting. I’m guessing he’s hunting the campus.”

“So you want to hunt him where he’s hunting?”

“Something like that. If I’m close enough, I can sense the spell. Even if all we do is prevent him from hurting someone else…” His voice trailed off as they neared the campus. The school had taken the attack pretty seriously, and it was easy to pick out the extra security. Sam’s eyes scanned the parking lot, spotting the ’72 Impala that Dean had spent a year restoring to give to Dana for her 19th birthday.

It was shiny and black, with hand crafted purple leather inside. It would be a while now before she was driving it again. A broken wrist on her shifting hand would make it difficult at best. Sam pulled in and parked.

“He’s finding them here. Picking them. Following them.”

“And when they’re alone, he hits them.” John finished, his eyes scanning the dorm in front of them. “From the list of girls he’s hit so far, he likes dark hair, athletes.”

Sam nodded. “He’s going to be young, maybe college age himself. And he won’t stand out, but he’ll be where everyone can see him.”

John snorted. “I think that describes half the boys on campus, Sammy.”

 

 

Dana tossed, trapped in a dream that was half nightmare, half memory. Demons surrounded her, creatures she’d fought and defeated, all come back to take advantage of her weakened state. And in the middle of them was _him_.

All dark and shadow, a vague form that moved toward her. She shrank back, but he kept coming, moving closer and closer until he was there, in her face, on top of her…and the dark shifted just enough to see his face.

She sat up, sweating and shaking. Professor Jacobs.

“Dana?”

She turned, half expecting Jacobs to slink out of the shadows…but it was Scott’s face, not her professor’s. “You okay?”

She nodded distractedly. “Dream. Demons and…” She let her voice trail off, wiping a shaky hand over her face. “What are you doing here?”

“Keeping an eye on you. Sam asked.”

“You…” She shook her head. “Never mind.”

“What?” Scott moved closer, sat on the bed.

“I just wanted to say thank you. You know? For coming to find me.”

“You were screaming. I was scared.”

“That’s twice.” She ran a hand through her hair. “I must be a mess.”

Scott smiled. “You are beautiful.”

She could feel the blush creeping up her cheeks. “You’re just saying that.”

“Only because it’s true.”

They were quiet for a minute. “Probably not the right time to say this.” Dana offered. “But…I liked talking to you….like that. Before…I miss you.”

Scott stiffened a little, turned away. “I miss you too, Dana. Every day.”

She let her let hand snake across the blanket to where his hand lay. She covered his with her own. “I want…I want to go back. I want you back.”

Scott sighed and still didn’t look at her. “I don’t know if we can, go back, Dana. So much has happened.”

“I don’t care what has happened, I love you.”

“Sometimes love isn’t enough.” Scott responded, pulling his hand away.

Dana’s heart sank. “Sometimes love is all there is.” Maybe he really didn’t love her anymore. Maybe their time apart had given him time to see his life without her as a good thing. Maybe he’d finally decided she was just too much of a freak. “Is it…because of my powers? Because I might not….I might be…normal now.”

Scott stood and paced away. “No, Dana. No. I love you the way you are, power or not. It isn’t that.”

Dana sighed. She hated not being able to at least read the surface of what he was feeling. She hadn’t realized how much she relied on her gifts for something so simple as having a conversation. Or walking. Or anything else she couldn’t seem to do right anymore.

“What is it then? Is it me? Is it because of seeing me with other guys?”

Scott shook his head. “Maybe it’s about me, and because I saw someone while I was in California…”

There were tears in her eyes when she looked up. “You did?” She had no right to cry, no right to the stab of jealousy in her gut. Not after Travis and the others. “Was she…I mean…did she…”

“I’m not going to talk about her, Dana. It’s enough that you know now. And I know that you saw guys while I was with her. We’re even.”

“It isn’t about being even, Scott.” Dana pushed the blanket off her and stood, a little wobbly, but upright. She limped over to him. “I dated, okay? And I liked it. But it made me realize that I only liked it, but I love you.” She took his hands and held them. “I love you. And I don’t care about some girl at Stanford. I care about you.”

“I just don’t know Dana.” He sighed explosively and paced away again. There was something more. Something he wasn’t saying.

“Whatever it is, we can get through it. You only have to look at my Dad and Sam and know that with love you can survive anything.” She sank down onto the bed, watching him pace. So maybe it was a chick flick sentiment, but it was true. “If they could overcome the things between them, and still come out so madly in love, the odds are in our favor.” Nothing they’d been through could compare to what Sam and her father had to get through to be together.

Scott had stopped pacing. She looked up. “I know better than to ask about Sam.” Scott said, squinting in her direction. “But, I don’t think he’s had to deal with this.”

Dana snorted, crossing her arms. “No, his was way worse.” She fought the yawn, but lost. The pain pills still in her system didn’t care if a dream had scared her awake. “Just know that we can make it work, Scott. That I want to make it work. Okay?”

He nodded, then gestured to the bed. “You should get more sleep.”

“Yeah, I know. Sit with me?”

Scott’s smile warmed her. “Of course.”

Dana climbed back into the bed and let Scott sooth the blankets over her. “Good night.” He kissed her forehead, and for the moment, Dana was content.


	4. Lessons Learned

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean's nightmares come to a head, and Sam finally finds out why. Sam and Scott have a talk. Dana finds life difficult to maneuver.

His first indication that something was wrong was the whimper that came out of Dana’s mouth. Scott sat forward, leaning until he could see her face. It was contorted like she was in pain. He checked the clock. She had another hour before she could take more pills.

He brushed a stray hair off her forehead and her whole body stiffened. Her scream split the air, only it sounded a lot less like Dana and a whole hell of a lot like Dean. Then he heard Dean, muffled by the walls and closed doors.

Remmy’s voice joined the chorus, from the hallway, whining and scratching at the door. Scott left Dana tossing fretfully and slipped down the hall, stepping over and then around the frantic puppy and opening Dean’s door.

He was drenched in sweat, the blankets and sheets tossed aside, his body twisted in an awkward position as he screamed Sam’s name. Remmy jumped up on the bed, whining and licking now. He looked up at Scott as if expecting him to do something.

Dean whimpered Sam’s name and Scott fumbled for his phone. He didn’t even need to say hello, Dean’s screaming greeted Sam as he answered. “We’re on our way back now.” Sam said.

“I think Dana…I don’t know, but she’s got a problem too.” Scott said.

“Go sit with Dana. Keep her calm.”

“Right. Hurry.” Scott left Remmy trying to calm Dean and went back to Dana. She had kicked the sheets down around her ankles and sweat slicked her forehead as she whimpered. He wasn’t sure what he was supposed to do, so he sat on the bed and held her hand, listening for any sign of Sam.

He heard the SUV, and the house seemed to still, as if Sam’s presence was enough to ease Dean out of whatever nightmare was eating at him. Dana stilled, then rolled a little to one side before she opened her eyes. “Scott?”

He smiled softly. “Still here.”

“That was…” They both looked up as Sam filled the doorway. “I was in Dad’s dream.” There was a tremble in her voice.

”I gathered that when Scott called.” Sam said, moving into the room. “How do you feel now?”

“Same as before.” She closed her eyes and was quiet for a minute. Then she sighed in frustration. “Nothing. Damn it.”

“It was probably more on his end than yours. I’ve been helping him with the dreams, he was probably unconsciously looking for me…and found you. Like I said, your gifts are all there, just…not active.”

Dana nodded miserably.

Sam’s eyes turned to Scott. “Thanks. I need to go have a talk with Dean and get him back to sleep, but if you’re up for it, we should have that talk.”

Scott nodded. “Not going anywhere.”

“Good.” Sam kissed Dana’s forehead. “You should sleep too.”

 

Sam eased back into the bedroom as Dean came out of the bathroom, his upper body wet, his lower body hidden by a towel.

“This has to stop.” Sam said.

Dean made a face and crossed to the dresser to pull out clean boxers. “If I could just flip a switch and make it stop, I would have. Weeks ago.”

“Dana was stuck inside your dream, like you used to get stuck in mine.” Sam said softly, watching Dean react to that.

He stiffened, turned his back on Sam, then slowly pulled his boxers on. “That means she’s getting her power back, doesn’t it?”

“You’re changing the subject.” Sam said, crossing to take Dean in his arms. “I’ve given you time and space, but now it’s time. We need to talk it out. Get to the bottom of it.”

He set up a psychic wall between them and Dana and kissed over the back of Dean’s neck, licking at the water dripping from his hair. He pulled Dean up against him and opened their connection full bore. _I love you…let me help you._

Dean resisted, then just stopped. His body sagged against Sam’s. An image formed. The living room floor. Dean holding Sam’s lifeless body. His voice was soft, dripping with agony.

_“Baby, I hope you hear me. I’m pretty sure you can, not sure why, but really pretty sure. Never wanted to have to say good-bye to you. Ever. You’re my whole world, have been since that crazy day at the bar. Not going to ask you to fight Sam. Know that you can’t. Gonna ask something of you though. It’s time you go over Sam. Go to Mom. I know she’ll be so…”_

A huge wracking cry of misery shook the image, echoed in Dean’s physical body in Sam’s arms. _“Mom, she deserves to have you after all this time. She’ll be happy. Most important, you get to be with Michael. I always hated that we weren’t able to save Michael. Now, you go and father him. Make sure you tell him how much we all love him.”_

The image shifted, Dean was laying down, pulling Sam into his arms, kissing his head.

_“We all love you Sam. And you’ve paid your debts, all of them. Don’t cling to…us, to this world babe. Don’t want that for you. Go over and be with Mom and Michael. They love you and need you. I promise that everyone here will be fine.”_

There was such a sense of finality to it. The feeling that it was over.

In the silence the image wavered, shivering in time to the sobbing quaking through them both. _I let go._

Sam tightened his arms around Dean, then carefully switched the image around so that Dean could see that exact moment from Sam’s point of view. _Gonna hurt._ he warned, letting them drop back into the memory.

His body was wracked with pain, cold. Except where Dean’s hands and legs touched him. There he burned. Excruciating. There was no conscious thought. There was only pain and fire and ice and the fight to hold on. The fight to stay, because he’d promised Dean he’d never leave again.

It was a fight he was losing.

In his arms, Dean was shaking, the emotion and the physical memory of the pain rapidly becoming too much. Sam drew them away from it. _You gave me what I needed…you always do._

_Dana didn’t give up. I didn’t even try._

Sam took a deep breath and pulled back a little more. “Dana was wrong.” He hadn’t said it before. “If I’d had enough left to know what she was doing, I would have told her no.”

Dean shivered and wrapped his arms around his stomach. “What? She saved your life.”

Sam nodded. “At what cost?” He sighed. “I know about the dark stuff she’s been messing with. I know what she had to do to save me…and even then, it shouldn’t have worked. If I was anyone else, anyone who didn’t have the healing power, I’d have been a vegetable until I died anyway.”

“That isn’t the point.” Dean said, stalking away now. “You do have that healing power, which is why she knew she could save you. She knew, and I just let you go.”

“She didn’t know anything. She guessed. She assumed. The same way she always has.” Sam sighed. This was not how he’d imagined this conversation would go. “The point is that you were right Dean. I was fighting to hold on. Causing myself more pain. You let me go, gave me your blessing. It was what I needed. You gave me the grace to go over in peace. Don’t ever blame yourself for that.”

“You needed me.” Dean said, turning to look at him. “And I told you to leave.”

Obviously this wasn’t going to be solved in one night. It explained the clinginess though, the way Dean reacted to Sam’s leaving for the retreat, the reason Dean came to California. He went to Dean, kissing him lightly.

_And then I did leave you…for months and months…you must have been very lonely._

Dean rubbed at his eyes but muttered, “Chick flick,” under his breath. Sam chuckled.

“And then you made me an honest man.” Sam lifted Dean’s hand with the ring he’d given him all those years before. He kissed the skin-warm metal. “Invited me to stay.” He lifted his own hand with his ring and pressed the rings together. “Forever. Yours.”

 _”Getting married turned you into a girl.”_ Dean wiped over his face, rubbing his eyes.

Sam could feel him letting go of the anger a little. He rubbed against him with a warm thought...a brief touch filled with all the ways Sam wasn’t a girl, ending with an image of Dean bent over naked, his ass filled with Sam’s cock. Just as Dean was showing signs of arousal, Sam let the image drop. “I should check on Dana. And Scott.”

“Tease.”

Sam paused to kiss him, lips lingering as they shared breath. “I’ll be back soon.”

 

Dana was sleeping. Sam stood in the doorway listening to her soft, even breathing. On the surface, she was peaceful. Just under the surface though…he pulled back. She’d been violated enough for now. He’d save the rest of his analysis for when she could participate.

Which left him with Scott. He was downstairs. Sam inhaled and headed down to find him. He was in the kitchen, holding a soda and staring blankly at the tile. “Hey.”

Scott blinked and looked up. “Hey. Everything settled upstairs?”

Sam shrugged. “For now, I guess. How are you doing?”

“Honestly?” Scott blew out and put the soda on the counter. “I’m exhausted. Confused. Anxious. Worried. Probably more, but those are the highlights.”

“Well, if you’d told me you were fine, I wouldn’t have believed you anyway.” Sam said. He got a bottle of water out of the fridge and cracked it open. “I can help with exhausted. You can crash here tonight. Let’s take confused next.”

Scott made a face. “Dana. I mean, I really meant it when I told her I just wanted to be friends for now. But…” Again with the face.

“You love her.” Sam prodded.

He drank from his soda before nodding. “In spite of everything. But there’s a part of me that worries that I’m just trying to justify the idea of you giving me to her.”

Sam nodded. That was the crux of his need to check in with the kid. It had been months and they hadn’t talked about Stanford and the claiming. “I don’t have to, you know that.”

Scott shook his head. “What happens to me when you die?” He looked up suddenly. “Not that I think you’re going to…any time soon anyway…I just…” He sighed heavily. “I don’t want to be with her just because I’m scared of the alternative.”

“Have you told her what happened?”

Scott’s face scrunched up in an expression Sam assumed meant no. “I told her there was a girl. That’s all.”

“What did she say?”

Another heavy sigh. “That it doesn’t matter, that we can work through it. That love can overcome anything. And she’s the one who doesn’t do romance.” Sam felt Scott’s eyes and looked up. Scott looked away quickly.

“What?”

“No, I’m not supposed to ask.” Scott said, draining his soda. “It’s against the Almighty Rule.”

Sam shook his head. “Ask. You’re not allowed to ask Dana about me. You can ask me anything.”

“Anything?”

Sam nodded.

“Cause, I have questions. Tons of them.”

“I’m sure you do.” He gestured at Scott to continue. “Well, she said you and Dean…that you went through stuff worse than…well this whole demons at Stanford thing…and that you managed to stay together.”

Sam nodded. “Demons at Stanford thing were already over and done with for me…well, just about, when Dean and I met. I was…pretty fucked up. I did a lot of things I’m not proud of.”

“See, here’s the thing. Everyone says stuff like that…how bad it was for them, you know…but when it comes right down to it, and they spill the details, it wasn’t all that bad, but they build it up emotionally.” Scott said.

“I didn’t exaggerate about Stanford.” Sam responded quietly and Scott blanched white.

“Okay, point taken.” He put his soda can on the counter. “So it was bad? Between you and Dean?”

Sam scanned the kid, trying to determine what and how much to tell him. “Yeah, it was bad. I used a hex to control him. Manipulated him. Made him want me.” Sam shook his head, remembering the desperation.

Scott stared at him, open mouthed. “You…and he…just…forgave you?”

Sam smiled. “He loved me, Scott. Despite the hex. Despite everything. He loved me, and that changed me.”

Scott looked away, processing the information. It was a few minutes before he looked up. “So…these gifts of yours. They’ve always been there? Like Dana?”

Sam drew in a deep breath. This was trickier territory. “Not always. They were repressed for a long time, at first by the demons I…worked for, and then by my own conscience. It took the attack, and the recovery, to really open them up. But, yes, I’ve had some measure of psychic ability my whole life.”

Scott yawned, tried to hide it and only yawned bigger. “And my very psychic self is telling me you need to go to sleep.” Sam held the kitchen door and Scott shuffled through it. “You know where the bed is.”

Sam watched him go, then shut off the lights and made the rounds to check the doors and windows. Aristotle was waiting for him by the stairs. Remmy was probably in bed with Dean, taking up Sam’s side of the bed. Damn dog had no discipline. Sam trudged up the stairs with Ari at his heels. Remmy looked up at them when they came into the room, sighed and moved to the end of the bed. Sam smiled and pulled off his jeans before sliding in next to Dean. Aristotle settled onto her bed under the window.

It was quiet. Peaceful. For the moment.

Sam slid a hand on to Dean’s stomach and closed his eyes. Sleep pulled at him and he didn’t resist, slipping into the dark with a soft sigh.

 

 

Dana sat in bed with her books, but she wasn’t reading. She was hiding. She’d gone as far as the front door before she withdrew again, into the sanctuary of her bedroom. Alone.

Because alone she didn’t dwell as much on who out there was reading her mind, and if they were staring. Well, except that she did. Almost constantly.

She’d found her balance with the physical stuff. She could walk without running into things and she’d adjusted to the way she saw things with just her normal eyes. She could function.

The rest though wasn’t nearly as easy. She knew Sam, trusted him with her life, yet whenever he was in the room, she couldn’t help but wonder if he was reading her, if he was inside her…and worse, she knew he knew it, because he kept finding reasons to not be there.

She knew something was going on with her father, but all she got from him was the same macho Winchester front she got from her Papa. And then there was Scott. She wasn’t really sure what was going on there. He’d gone to her dorm room and brought her the piles of books surrounding her.

He was off at class now, after arranging note takers for her to get her through until she could get back to campus. Which, truthfully, shouldn’t take long. She wasn’t bed-ridden, she just looked like she got punched in the face and once the ankle was strong enough to walk on, she’d be fine.

She looked down at her broken wrist. Okay, so she’d need the note takers even after she could go to classes. But she healed fast. Always had.

There was a knock on the door and she looked up. “Come in.”

Dana was a little surprised to see Missouri there when the door opened. “Oh, girl, look at you. Sam wasn’t lying.”

Dana shook her head. “I’m fine. Little beat up. But I’ve had worse.”

Missouri raised an eyebrow before bustling into the room. She came to stand beside the bed, and Dana watched the second eyebrow join the first. “Hmmm.” Missouri sat on the end of the bed. “Can’t feel me at all, can you?”

Dana felt a blush creep over her cheeks. “No. Nothing.”

Missouri nodded, then reached for Dana’s good hand. “I’m going to have a poke around, okay?”

She wanted to say no, wanted to pull away…but this was Missouri. Dana nodded tightly. She closed her eyes and tried to center, despite the fear hammering through her.

After a few minutes, Missouri clucked and her hand left Dana’s. “That’s a right strange thing.”

Dana forced herself to exhale the breath she was holding. “Is it…will it get better?”

“Hard to say. Sam said you got wrapped up in your Daddy’s dreams?”

She nodded. “Yeah…I couldn’t get out…”

“Not surprising.” Missouri stood. “Just be patient, Dana. We’ll get it all figured out.”

Patience. Like she had any of that at all.

“Maybe it’s time you learned some.” Missouri responded as if Dana had said the thought out loud.

Dana shivered and looked at her. “I didn’t say that.”

“Course not, but you thought it at me. Loudly.”

“You…that’s…” Dana hugged herself.

Missouri’s eyes narrowed. “Don’t like that feeling, do you? The notion someone’s poking around in your head and you don’t know it?”

Dana shook her head miserably.

“Something to think about while we wait to see if those gifts of yours are going to make a comeback.” Missouri headed for the door. “Always said you were too casual with it, you know.”

Dana watched her leave, then limped to the window to stare out at the cold. There was supposed to be snow, but it hadn’t started yet. It had always been so easy, to skim the surface, to know what people around her were feeling. She’d never realized how selfish it was. How violating it would be. She thought about Professor Jacobs and how he’d reacted with anger. It wasn’t just him he wouldn’t let her read, it was the rest of the class too.

Like she was taking something from them.

And now she could see why.

 

 

Missouri sighed as she lowered herself into the arm chair. Sam handed her a cup of tea and waited. She sipped at it, but didn’t look up at him.

“It’s going to get bad.”

Sam nodded. That had been his assessment too. “Like a complete reset.”

Missouri sighed. “When they start coming back she won’t have much control, and there’s no telling what will come back first.” She finally looked up at him. “She’s not going to like it, but you’re going to have to keep her on a short leash.”

He knew that. Already he’d had to tamp down her projection. She hadn’t even been aware of doing it, but she’d woken him with her very active dream life. He’d ended up walling off her room, so that she wasn’t disturbing the rest of the house.

“She ain’t the only handful you got.”

Sam smiled. She always had been observant. “No, Dean’s been having nightmares. Bad ones. I think we finally got to the bottom of it though. Things should get better.”

“Boy should have nightmares, for all he’s seen and done. Your daddy too.” She drank her tea. “Now, what about this man who hurt our Dana?”

He sighed and sat back on the couch. “He’s using some version of an ancient spell. I couldn’t track it very far from where he hit Dana, and judging from the residuals I picked up, he’s not very skilled. Probably totally untrained. The spell is meant to dull the senses, sound, sight, etc…it was used in ancient cultures during initiatory rites.”

“I know the kind. Never seen one used though.”

“Takes strength, especially knowing he took Dana down. “

“Untrained, but strong. Not a good combination.”

“No.” He and John had searched for more than a few hours, expecting that the killer had to be prowling for a new victim, since he’d lost Dana. They’d come up with nothing.

“He’ll hit again soon.” Missouri said.

“Unfortunately, that may be the only way we have to catch him.”

 

 

 

 

Three days passed before Dana let Sam cajole her out of her sanctuary, and then it was just to take lunch to her father at the garage. He’d said she needed to get out of the house, to interact with people, now that she was walking on her ankle.

She lifted a hand in greeting as her Papa stepped out of the garage, wiping greasy hands on his coveralls. “Hey Papa,” she said when he got close enough.

“Nice to see your ass out of bed.” He said, his smile bright.

“Sam made me.” She pouted. The wind was cold and she bundled her coat around her.

“You look good.”

She rolled her eyes. “I look like a punching bag.” She heard the screech of metal twisting and tearing and whipped around, staring in the direction it had come, but there was nothing.

“Dana?”

She frowned and shook her head. “Heard something.” She tried to concentrate, identify it. Her father’s voice called her name and she saw it, in a flash of images a car, brakes burning. She looked for Sam, yelled his name.

The screech of metal twisting and tearing apart filled the air as a mini-van careened through the stop light on the corner. It slammed into the sign for the garage and the sign came crashing down, landing where her father had been.

Dana dragged air into her lungs, her good hand gripped around her Papa’s wrist. Her stomach churned and her head was filled with voices…people yelling, the woman in the minivan crying, her father on the phone with 911.

She let go of her Papa and covered her ears, but it did nothing to dim the cacophony in her head. She was screaming as they tore into her. She couldn’t breathe for all the voices filling up her head.

There were fingers on her hands, a soft blanket wrapping around her mentally. It muffled the voices, muted them until she was finally alone again. She was panting when she looked up. Sam was huddled over her protectively, both physically and mentally.

_”Go slow.”_

She nodded. She tried to respond mentally, but couldn’t make the connection work both ways. Eventually she gave up. “I’m fine,” she said out loud. “Just, don’t let go.”

Sam kissed her forehead. “Not a chance.”

“I saw it coming. I knew.” Dana let out a slow breath. “Is everyone okay?”

“The driver’s a little shaken, and she’s got a good knot on her head. But other than that, everyone is fine.”

“Dad?”

“Right here.” He was behind her, his hand coming to rest on her back.

“Let’s get you up.” Sam said, and her father’s hands were on her waist, helping her to stand. She hadn’t even realized she fallen to her knees. They guided her to the car and she sat, still shaking a little. She couldn’t feel Sam at all now. She sighed.

“I think…whatever that was, it’s over.” Dana said softly.

“How do you feel?” Sam asked.

“Tired. Can we just go home?”

Sam nodded and helped her pull her feet in. She watched him kiss her father goodbye, then closed her eyes. She didn’t want to talk about it. She wasn’t sure she even wanted it to come back. The pain and terror and overwhelming sense of everyone and everything around her…it would make her crazy.

 

 

“What happened to the front window?” Dean asked when Sam met him at the front door.

“Same thing that happened to the bathroom mirror, the kitchen table and half the plates.” Sam replied, crossing his arms to lean on the door.

“And she still doesn’t realize she’s doing it?”

Sam shook his head. Dana had looked surprised each time. “It’s like her conscious mind has no control.”

“She’s going to owe us a new house at this point.” Dean said dryly. “She okay?”

Sam shrugged. “Honestly, I don’t know. She spent an hour or so crying and breaking things in her room the old fashioned way. She’s been quiet ever since.”

“I hate to admit this Sammy, but maybe we need help here.”

Sam nodded. He’d already thought of that. It had only been a couple of days since the gifts had started to manifest in fits and spurts, and Dana had been trying so hard at first. Now she couldn’t tell the difference between a psychic dream and the regular kind.

She’d been convinced the killer was going to strike twice, sending Sam on a wild goose chase. She had no filter in place, so when her gifts were sparking, they filled up the whole house with whatever was going on in her head. She’d started a fire, that fortunately, Sam caught before it got out of the trash can. She’d floated both dogs and half the living room furniture.

Sam had gotten a good head full of Dana’s dream life too. He had new appreciation for her teenage horror when his sex dreams leaked out. “I called someone.” Sam said finally. “She’ll be here tonight.”

“She won’t like it.”

Sam nodded. “I don’t think she has a choice. If we can’t get her past this and get her some control, we may have to repress the whole thing. I don’t want that for her.”

“Me either.”

They were quiet for a minute, then Sam sighed. “I promised her I’d get her through it.”

“You will.” Dean responded, moving to go past him. “Is she still convinced that professor of hers is the bad guy?”

“No, I think I convinced her he’s clean. Now she has a list of other people.”

Sam followed him into the kitchen. “She’s also convinced his next target is her roommate, Becca.”

Dean opened a beer, took a swig and frowned at him. “Not exactly his type, is she?”

Sam shook his head. “No, she’s more computer geek than athlete, though she’s in good shape.”

“Did she say why?”

Sam made a face. “Dream.”

“Not her most reliable gift right now.” Dean drank down half the beer.

“Still, I asked Scott to kind of watch out for her.” Sam sighed and leaned against the counter.

“Asking a lot of the kid lately.” Dean observed, draining his beer.

“He can handle it.”


	5. Lessons Learned

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dana gets some help, Scott and John deal with the bad guy, and Sam and Dean celebrate having an empty house again...although a little prematurely. Scott and Dana talk. Lessons are learned.

“Are you following me?”

Scott lowered his book and looked up into the face of his quarry. “Um…no?”

“You don’t sound so sure.” She grinned, pushed her glasses up, then sat beside him. The little café was crowded, and he already knew she was alone. “You’re Scott, right, Dana’s friend?”

He nodded and put the book down. No point in pretending now. “Yeah, I am. And, yeah, I’m kind of following you.”

“Should I be worried?”

He licked his lips. How do you tell someone that their roommate is psychic and thinks you might be in trouble. “Dana was worried about you, thought I could keep an eye out…”

“That’s sweet. Is she doing okay?”

Scott nodded. “Still a little shaken by what happened, but she should be coming back to school soon.”

“Well, I don’t need a bodyguard, Scott. You probably have better things to do. You can stop following me around.”

“Just be careful, you know? Weird people out there and all.”

She smiled brightly. “Tell me about it. There’s this kid in my poetry class who’s convinced he’s some kind of wizard, can put spells on people. Whako!” She rolled her eyes and stood. “Speaking of, I have to get to poetry class. Tell Dana I said hi.”

His phone rang as he waved, and he pulled it out, flipping it open quickly.

“Are you really following Becca around campus?”

“Hello to you too Dana.” He smiled as he put his book back into his bag. “And, no, not any more. She called me on it and is off to her next class without me.”

She sighed in frustration. “I’m sorry. It’s probably nothing. Just another one of my half-baked, still doughy on the inside, ideas that wastes time. Just let it go, okay?”

“Done. I’ve got lecture notes for your classes. You up for me dropping by tonight?”

“I’m not going anywhere.” There was a tired edge to her voice, but Scott figured that with everything she was going through she was allowed to sound tired.

“Okay, I’ll bring them by in a bit.”

 

 

Dana paced the room, restless. She’d already broken anything and everything she conceivably could, but the frustration remained. She was aware of the wall that kept her from anything outside her room, grateful on the one hand that she had enough control to recognize it and that she wasn’t disturbing her father and Sam with her temper tantrum, but annoyed on the other because it was necessary, and she couldn’t do more than feel it. She couldn’t feel Sam’s control of it, or anything beyond it.

Not until there was a gentle knock on the door. The wall changed then. Dropped, and in its place was something else. A presence. The door opened and a woman stood on the other side. A petite, bald woman in blue robes.

 _Do not be afraid. I am Ally._ She glided into the room and the door closed soundlessly behind her. _I am here to help you._

Dana wasn’t afraid…exactly. She knew the name, had an idea who this woman was.

“Your uncle asked me to come see you.” Ally said, switching to verbal speech. “I have looked forward to meeting you.”

“I…uh…I’m not sure what to say.” She shook her head. “I think I’m glad you came.”

Ally smiled and somehow Dana found it disconcerting. “You think?”

Dana sighed. “I’m kind of a mess. I don’t know what’s going on in here.” She fluttered her hand alongside her head.

“That is to be expected, after your ordeal.”

“To be honest, the thought of letting you…well, anyone, inside here is terrifying.”

“I will not do anything without your permission, Dana. I am bound by oaths to never use my gifts in such a way.”

“Oaths?”

Ally inclined her head. “I am a part of a very select order. We take vows when we join the order, and as we progress in our spiritual journey.” She came close enough to Dana that she could feel the woman’s energy filling the space between them. “A journey you have yet to begin. Will you let me assist you?”

Dana stared into the woman’s eyes, let the calm she radiated wash over her before nodding slowly. “Yes. Please.” She blinked and took a deep breath. “What do you want me to do?”

“Come, lay down. Close your eyes and relax, center. I will scan you. Your body first, then your mind. I will work progressively deeper, and when I know all I can know about you and your condition, I will withdraw. I will then discuss with you what I have found, and what course of action I recommend.”

“Okay…" Dana’s voice was shaky, but she let Ally take her hand and guide her to the bed. Dana lay down, closing her eyes.

_Take a deep breath and let it out slowly. I will begin as you draw your next breath._

A calm settled over Dana as Ally’s hands…at least she thought they were her hands, touched her feet and moved slowly over her body. Dana was vaguely aware of the shift from physical to psychic, then a swooping feeling in her stomach…then nothing.

 

 

Sam looked up as Ally descended the stairs. She smiled and inclined her head to Sam and then to Dean.

“Your daughter is a remarkable child.” Ally said to Dean. “Very strong, talented. I see much of you in her, Samuel.”

“So…can you help?” Dean asked impatiently.

“There is much to do, and these first days of her gifts returning is critical. I would much prefer to have her in the Sanctuary for what must be done, but it is unwise to move her through populated spaces at the moment. I will remain here.”

“Is that a yes?”

“Dean. Be nice.”

“It is fine, Samuel, your brother is impatient, much as his daughter is. Yes, Dean. I will stay and help Dana recover. I will, however, require some assistance. Her room must be emptied of all but the bed. The window boarded. I will then sanctify the space, make it a place where we can work undisturbed. No one will be allowed in that space but Dana and I once we begin.”

 

 

Scott was half way to his car, but something niggled at him. Something Becca had said. The kid who thought he was a wizard. Scott turned and headed toward the Language Arts building, down the stairs. He had a moment to wonder if it was creepy that he knew where her class was, but then found the note on the door saying that the class had been canceled for the evening.

The ugly feeling at the back of his neck got worse. He headed down the hall. The back stairs were closer to the dorms. If she’d headed back to her room, maybe he’d catch her.

He started out at a brisk walk, but before long was jogging, up the stairs and out into the cold Kansas night. It was quiet. He scanned the campus around him, hoping to spot her.

Instead, he spotted a dark spot. Lights were out down near the maintenance shed. He pulled out his phone. “Sam, I have an idea who it is.”

“Where are you?”

“On campus, near the maintenance shed. Lights are out. I…I think he’s got Becca.”

“We’re on our way.”

Scott jammed his phone into his pocket and set off at a run. He’d be damned if he was going to let the son of a bitch get away this time.

 

 

Sam threw his phone to Dean. “Call Dad. I think he’s staking out the Grove. Tell him to get down to the maintenance shed.” He turned to Ally. “If you wouldn’t mind staying with Dana?”

“Go Samuel, and mind that he’s not trained, but very strong. You must get underneath before he knows you are there, or he will blind you.”

Sam nodded, grabbing at keys as Dean relayed the information to John. Tires squealed as they pulled out and headed toward the campus.

 

 

Scott found them, in the dark shadows behind the shed. Becca’s face was turned away. The bastard was on top of her, already in full swing. She wasn’t moving, except with the jerking movements of his body on top of her.

He fought down the bile and looked around him for a weapon. He knew from his experience with Dana that once he got close enough his vision would be affected, so he had to make the first blow good. He found a fist sized rock and hefted it.

With a deep breath to steady his nerves, Scott flew at them, cocking his arm and snapping it forward when he was close enough. It connected with the back of the bastard’s head and he slumped to the side.

Scott dropped the rock and kicked him, rolling him away from Becca. He landed on his back, his cock hard and covered in a condom. Scott heard footsteps and took a step back. John Winchester nearly ran past him, then stopped. “You get him?”

Scott gestured at the guy who was stirring now. John bent over, fisted his hands in the dark shirt and hefted the guy to his feet, hauling him up and shoving him against the shed. Scott went to his knees beside Becca. Her eyes were open, staring blankly at the grass. His hand shook as he reached for her neck to check for a pulse.

There was nothing. He’d been too late. She was dead.

“Scott.” John’s voice was deep, gruff, demanding. Scott shook his head in answer to the question he hadn’t asked.

The guy was mumbling. Scott’s vision got blurry.

“Like hell.” John hit him hard, across the jaw. The words stopped and John dropped the unconscious man.

“Scott!” Dean’s voice echoed over the campus.

“Over here.” Sam called, rounding the shed. They came crashing to a halt. “Campus police are right behind us.”

Scott stood and wiped his hands self consciously on his jeans, smearing Becca’s blood on himself. “She’s dead. I shouldn’t have stopped. I shouldn’t have let her go alone. Not after she said he was weird. Not after she told me he did spells.” His stomach churned. “I’m gonna be sick.”

Sam pulled him away from the crime scene, held his shoulder while he bent over and threw up. The police were there with lights and shouts and questions. He would have to talk to him.

 _You noticed the lights were out and you heard a noise. You came to see and found them._ Sam’s words filled his head, while his hand squeezed his shoulder.

Scott nodded, wiping his mouth as he stood upright. “Which one of you found them?”

Scott lifted his hand, turning to face the officer. He recognized her from the search in the Grove. “I did. I was headed back to the dorms and saw the lights were out down here.”

“So you came down here alone, rather than contacting maintenance?”

Scott nodded. “I saw a couple of girls head this way, wanted to make sure it was safe.”

She nodded and jotted down notes. “What did you see?”

“He was…she was on the ground and he was on top of her…he was rape—“ He swallowed and looked to Sam. He was going to be sick again. Then, his stomach seemed to settle. “I’m sorry. He was raping her…but I think…I think she was already dead.”

“And what did you do?”

“I hit him. With a rock. He fell over. I checked on her, but there was no pulse.”

“Do you know either of them?”

Scott nodded. “Becca Brolin. She was my girlfriend’s roommate.”

 

Dana sat upright in bed, covered in sweat as the dream played over and over in her head. Becca was dead. She knew it.

And it was her fault.

She’d told Scott to let her go. She’d believed it was just a regular dream, and not one of _those_ dreams. Her fault.

“You are not responsible for her death.” Dana turned to find Ally in the doorway. “The man who killed her is responsible.”

“But I knew. I saw it happen two days ago. I saw it happen last night. I knew. I should have done something.”

Ally stepped closer. “What is it you would have done?”

Dana crossed her arms. “Protect her.”

“You could not have protected her. You would only have given him a second chance to kill you.”

“Better me than her.” Dana said.

“Do you truly believe that?”

Dana pouted. “I don’t know.”

“Words have power Dana, even more so with one such as you. What you speak becomes real, if only in your own mind. Do you believe your life is worth less than that of this girl?”

“No, not really.” Dana sighed. “She was…innocent. A good person.”

“And her death resulted in the capture of her killer. Is that not a noble thing?”

“Noble?” Dana threw off her sheet and stood. “Noble? She was blinded and deafened, her skin desensitized. She was beaten and thrown to the ground, and while she lay dying, he raped her. How is anything about that noble?”

She stared at the smaller woman, but Ally didn’t back down. Didn’t even flinch. “Is your fear and indignation for Becca or for yourself?” she inquired softly.

Dana blinked, staring back at her. She swallowed, looked away. “I don’t know.”

“There is much you do not yet know, Dana. Much you must learn. Much more you can learn, if you choose. It is not an easy path. Once you have stepped foot to this path, going back is not an option. ”

Dana chewed on a fingernail. “What path?”

“The one that leads to full mastery of the gifts to which you were born.”

“What if…what if I don’t want it?”

“That too is your choice. Your gifts can be sequestered. Repressed. As Samuel’s were when he was young.”

“I’d be normal?” Dana dropped her hand and looked at Ally, not sure why she was asking.

Ally inclined her head. “Such as normal is.”

If she were normal, she could be with Scott and not worry about her freak factor freaking him out. She wouldn’t have to hide who she was from her friends. She wouldn’t have to watch people die in her dreams.

But then, they’d still die. She just wouldn’t see it. Wouldn’t have a chance to save them.

If she were normal, Sam would be dead. Her father would be dead. She’d be alone.

Dana didn’t want to be normal.

“So…how do we do this?”

Ally smiled softly. “We begin at the beginning.”

 

 

Sam watched from the porch as Dana and Ally worked through a familiar kata in the open space of the back yard. Despite the cold temperatures, they were both dressed lightly, moving in perfect synchronization through the complex steps. Dana held several objects in mid-air, spinning them in different directions.

A light sheen of sweat gleamed on her forehead and Sam could only barely trace the strands of thought that kept the dance afloat. Her shielding technique had improved drastically, and her power was growing at levels he hadn’t seen since she was a child.

They finished the rotation and everything settled back into place. Dana returned to the first position and bowed to Ally.

“Very nicely done, Dana. Do you agree Samuel?”

He smiled broadly and stepped off the porch. “Yes, very nice. I’m impressed.”

Dana took the towel he tossed her and tried to shrug it off, but he could tell she was pleased with the praise. “I’m no where near as good as Ally at it. But I’m getting the hang of it.”

“The progress is promising. I hope to see you will continue.”

Dana nodded and scrunched her nose. “I will. I made a promise.”

“Does that mean you will be leaving us?” Sam asked as they headed inside.

“I have been away from the retreat a long while. It is time I return home.”

“I wish I knew how to thank you.” Dana said. “I never had this kind of control. I never knew I could.”

“You are a good student, and that is all the thanks a teacher needs. That and the fulfillment of your oath.”

Dana blushed a little and looked at Sam. “I told Ally I’d spend the summer at the retreat.”

Sam smiled broadly. “That’s really good Dana. I’m proud of you.”

She rolled her eyes. “It’s not like I’m planning on taking vows or anything. I just…want to learn more.”

“You are welcome as well, Samuel. Any time.”

“Thank you Ally. I appreciate the offer.”

“Now, if you will excuse me, I need a shower and a change of clothes before I go.”

When she was gone behind the bathroom door, Sam slung an arm around Dana’s shoulders. “Need me to take the edge off the pain?” He nodded toward her wrist, still in its splint.

She shook her head. “No, I’ve got it.”

“I really am proud of you kiddo.” He kissed her forehead.

“I’m kinda proud of me too.” Dana admitted. “I mean…it’s only been three weeks, but…I feel stronger, better.”

“Ready to go back to your dorm?” Dean’s voice asked from the kitchen doorway.

Dana grinned and turned to hug him tightly. “Yes, I will be leaving you two randy lovebirds to your solitude so you can go back to your wicked ways.”

“Back to? We barely got started and Scott moved in.”

She kissed his nose, then turned on her toes and headed for the stairs, waving her hand. Sam chuckled and took his turn to slide his hands around Dean’s waist and pull him into a hug. “It’s good to hear her laugh like that again.”

Dean pulled him back, into the kitchen. “Good to hear I get to fuck you anytime I want soon.”

“Soon? How ‘bout now?”

Dean raised an eyebrow. “They’re still here.”

Sam kept them moving until Dean’s back was against the refrigerator, then his hand cupped to Dean’s dick. “So be quiet.” Sam said playfully, kissing him as his hand massaged his cock through the denim of his jeans.

“Sam…” It was half growl of lust, half warning and Sam chose to see it as an invitation to take the next step, yanking his zipper down and wrapping a hand around Dean. His cock surged in his hand, hardening fast and Sam grinned as their mouths came together.

_So damn easy._

Dean only groaned in response, then moaned deep and low as Sam went to his knees and sucked his cock into his mouth. It had been a while since they’d had time to really take care of the need between them, and this would only sate them for a while, but when Sam sucked in hard and deep and Dean’s fingers weaved through his hair, Sam moaned himself at the heat already building.

It would be over fast, judging from the way Dean’s mouth kept a running litany of _SamSamSamSammySamSam_ as Sam licked and sucked. Sam doubled the dampening wall he’d thrown up around the kitchen as Dean neared orgasm, then flicked at his balls with a bit of mental tongue action and that was it. Dean thrust forward, coming in great big spurts down Sam’s throat.

Sam swallowed and licked him clean, then looked up at him. The eyebrow was still in full arch, and his grin was wicked. Sam stood, pressing Dean into the fridge and claiming his mouth. “Gonna fuck you in every room of the house once I have you alone,” Dean growled in his ear.

Sam nipped at his neck, and tucked him back into his jeans. “We better go say goodbye to Ally.”

“You better rinse your mouth. You stink like sex.”

 

 

The dorm room was quiet. Becca’s bed was stripped bare. Her belongings gone. It seemed like a lifetime had passed since Dana had stood there last. There was a vague remnant of the girl Dana had only barely gotten to know…a sort of psychic fingerprint that lingered at the desk where she’d worked.

Dana trailed a hand over the wood. “I’m sorry.”

Maybe it wasn’t her fault, but Dana had liked Becca. And no one deserved to die like that. Ally had told her that the killer would be rendered unable to kill again. She didn’t elaborate on how or by whom.

For the first time in her life, Dana was okay with not knowing. He was a human being and he would stand trial. And that was enough.

She turned as someone knocked on the door, smiling when Scott opened it. “Hey.”

“Hey yourself.”

He came in and closed the door. “Sam said you were back.”

“I’m glad you’re here.” She took his hand and drew him to the bed, guiding him to sit. “I have a few things I need to tell you. I want us to start over again. And I want to be totally honest with you. I’m terrified, but I want you to know everything.”

“Dana—“

She held up her hands. “I worked on this, and I should start with the whole psychic thing. There’s a lot you don’t know.”

“Dana—“

“And the boys. The other boys, I mean.” She chewed on her lip. “All the way back to Travis.”

“Dana. Stop.” Scott stood, caught her hands. “Just stop.”

“I need you to know.” Dana said, feeling the tears building. She’d changed so much and she loved him so deep in her stomach that the idea that he wouldn’t want her after she told him was like a knife twisting inside her.

He kissed her softly. When she started to talk again, he kissed her again. “You talk too much, you know that?”

She nodded, biting her lip. “It is one of the lessons I’ve learned recently.”

“How about you let me say something first. Before you start again.”

“Okay.”

“I love you.” Scott said, emphasizing his last word with his lips and tongue. “I love you and I don’t care about other boys or psychic shit or demons or stuff that floats. I don’t care about your fathers or the ghost stuff. I love you. I want to be with you.”

Dana could feel her control slipping, her happiness flowing out around her and making things float. She took a deep breath and concentrated on lowering everything. “Yeah?”

Scott nodded, licking at her lips until she opened them for him. “Yeah.”

“Okay.” Dana kissed him back, melting against him. His kiss was warm and comforting. She’d forgotten how good he was at the kissing part.

Scott drew her to the bed, sat them both down. “I just…I want to start over too. Take it slow.”

Dana didn’t care, she’d give him anything he wanted. She was so happy he wanted her. “Like, dating?”

Scott smiled and Dana felt like she might swoon from the sheer joy. “Like dating.” His fingers threaded through hers. “Long walks and hand holding and coffee after movies.”

Dana sighed a little and looked at their joined hands. “I think I like that.”

They were quiet for a minute, then Scott cleared his throat. “From this point forward, I need for you to be honest from me. I realize why you hid things from me before, but I’m in it all the way now. Don’t try to protect me or assume I can’t handle something. Okay?”

“I hated lying to you.” Dana said. “Hated it. Honesty, straight up truth from here on out,” she promised solemnly.

He nodded. “Okay, that was one of the hard ones. Here’s the other. Your gifts.” He cleared his throat and looked up at her. “I have a better understanding of them now, and what they mean to you, and I won’t begin to guess how they work, but I want you to promise me that you’ll work at them, get better, stronger…I was so terrified, Dana…when you couldn’t control them, and I don’t want to be afraid of you.”

She squeezed his hand, then raised it to kiss. “I promise not only to work at them, but to be more responsible with how I use them…no more dark stuff. No more casual reading. I do my learning the old fashioned way and I use my gifts to help people.”

His smile was brilliant. She found herself grinning until her cheeks hurt. Scott kissed her, soft, warm. Dana sighed against his lips. “I want what my father has with Sam, Scott.” Dana said softly. “I want that kind of love in my life. I want you to be my Sam.”

“I think in this scenario, I’m Dean…you’re Sam.” Scott replied playfully.

Dana rolled her eyes. “You know what I mean. No more party-girl. No more flirting. I only need you.”

“I think I like that.” Scott said, repeating her own words back to her.

“I know I’m not perfect. I have a lot to learn.”

Scott nodded, his eyes bright. “And I’ll give you the space to learn it.”

“I’m so happy.” Dana smiled, blinking at a wave of emotion that threatened to spill out of her eyes.

Scott stood, kissing her forehead. “I have studying to do. And you have a lot of catch up to do. I should go.” She followed him to the door, where he stopped and turned. “I hear the campus theater is doing a zombie movie marathon this weekend. Would you like to try that whole going on a date thing?”

Him and his zombies. She nodded. “I’d like that a lot.”

“I’ll buy the tickets, you buy the popcorn?”

She grinned. “You’re on.”

“See you tomorrow.” He kissed her, then slipped out the door.

She was alone again, but somehow it didn’t feel quiet as lonely as it did before.

Dana crossed to the desk where her stack of make up work waited. There were still lessons to be learned.


End file.
